Your favourite Libra Rising

You guys might know me as Libra15 from ao3. If you've come from ao3, what's good you horny little bitch. If not, hi. I'm a writer of short stories and erotica. When I'm not writing, I'm a data analyst. I like: long walks on men's testicles, having fun, old women perving on me, and reading post-colonial theory.

Use this space to interact with me, give me prompts, whatever you want.

This should go without saying but if you're under the age of 18, bounce off this blog, and please do not interact with me. Go and do your homework instead!

Also, if you're a cis guy, don't interact with me either. My work is for the girls and the queers. Thanks!

And, find the link to the snippet mastersheet here

As a person, Regina is generally level headed. 

That is, of course, unless it pertains to Emma. 

Emma knows this, and loves playing pranks on Regina. It doesn’t ever take much to goad her Mommy into reacting, and Emma often wonders how she continues to allow herself to be rage-baited constantly. Emma does take her life into her own hands at times with these pranks, especially as Regina’s dangerously possessive side always seems to be bubbling close to her surface.

Once, Emma did pull this prank, but she didn’t film it for TikTok. 

It was a cold Saturday afternoon, and before leaving the house to go to the gym, Emma found her Mommy in her office, typing away at her desk. 

Draping herself over the back of Regina’s chair so that her head was next to her Mommy’s, Emma pecked Regina chastely on the cheek. 

“Hi, I’m going to the gym now,” she informed sweetly. “What are you up to?” 

“Just getting through some emails, princess,” Regina responded, taking off her glasses and turning her neck slightly to face Emma better. “When will you be home?” 

“I’ll only be a couple of hours, Mommy.” 

Regina nodded and grasped Emma’s chin with her right hand to place a small peck on her lips before letting go and turning back to her screen. She wasn’t paying much attention, and was about to get back into her email task, until she peripherally saw Emma brush her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie before she stood up again from leaning over the chair.

For a brief moment, Emma wondered if Mommy would have even noticed. It was a silly thought, really. Mommy was trained in monitoring every single movement Emma could possibly make. She had the instincts of an apex predator, and of course, Emma was her prey. 

“What was that?” Regina turned in her desk chair immediately. The girl hadn’t even had a chance to move before Regina spun around to face her. 

“What was what?” Emma replied, feigning innocence. 

“Did you just wipe your lips after I kissed you?” 

Dark eyes scanned Emma’s guilty little face. It was incredible how Regina could make the girl squirm with a single pointed, suspicious look. 

“No?” Emma’s tried to steel herself to not smile. “My lip was just itchy.” 

“Come here,” Regina demanded, tugging at the front of the girl’s sweater so she could kiss her again. 

Emma bent to quickly peck her Mommy’s lips once more, before straightening up and turning around. She knew Mommy would watch her as she left the room. 

As she turned, squeezing her lips together and almost unable to contain her laughter, she raised her covered wrist to wipe her mouth once more. 

“Emma Mills!” the stern, annoyed voice came from behind her. 

The girl tried to move off quickly when she felt Regina quickly stand up from behind her, but Mommy’s long reach allowed her to pull Emma’s hood until she stumbled back into her. 

“What!” Emma giggled as Regina held her close to her body, a strong arm wrapping around her waist.

The older woman understood, then, that Emma was being silly. Still, Regina wouldn’t tolerate the disrespect. The idea that Emma would wipe away Mommy’s mark on her lips was unacceptable.  

Bringing her free hand up, she grasped Emma’s chin roughly and squeezed her fingers into her jaw, forcing the her little girl’s mouth open. The blonde wriggled but didn’t resist as Mommy pursed her lips and spit in her mouth. 

“Mommy!” the garbled complaint came after Regina watched Emma’s throat bob as she swallowed, still contorting her jaw with one strong hand. 

“You act like a bad girl, so you get treated like one, princess,” Regina explained calmly before releasing Emma and giving her a hard spank on her bottom. 

Wow!!! I will reply to this message, but I've had many messages similar. What lovely comments to receive and it's so sweet that people are still enjoying these silly little stories and snippets. Thank you all for sticking with me for the past 4 years and sending me these messages!

It's so crazy to think that it's been 4 years. My life is totally different than how it was when I first started writing, as I'm sure is the same for all of you guys. I've still got some works in the pipeline and look out for some Kinktober snippets on here (I'll be responding to the 2.5 year long back log of messages haha).

Hey guys, sorry this is coming like two years late lol. I want to finish this off at least in case I disappear again for a prolonged period.

Coming soon!

*************

The couple’s introduction to Marian’s house for the evening was a little bizarre for Emma.

Robin, Marian’s husband and submissive, had not yet left the house once they had arrived. When Marian opened the door, looking every part the Lady of the House, with her husband stood about 2 meters behind her. A sheer black shirt barely concealed the pale abdominals beneath, and wear tucked into a pair of smart black dress trousers.

He stood, his head down with his eyes facing the ground and his back totally straight, his hands clasped together behind his back. It was some perverse military pose, Emma was unsure if he was even breathing, given his frozen statuesque position. She looked up at her Mommy, who seemed unphased by the entire scene in front her, and instead released Emma’s hand to hug her friend greeting them at the door.

Mommy and Emma’s dynamic was different from Marian and Robin’s, and they both knew that. Though Emma was not one to judge, she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react if Regina requested that she stand behind her like a statue whilst she greeted her friends at the door.

Either way, Emma felt a little uncomfortable in the man’s presence. She hadn’t expected him to be there, let alone actively engaging in the dynamic with his partner.

Marian explained his presence.

‘Robbie wanted to say hi to you guys before he left.’

Before turning to address him.

‘Come, boy.’

Regina could feel Emma stiffen beside her, her muscles tensing in discomfort beneath her skin. Emma and Regina, whilst fully committed to their D/s dynamic themselves, didn’t have many friends who also indulged in the lifestyle. Seeing another couple’s, especially a straight couple’s, dynamic this close was all new to Emma, and Regina could sympathise with the girl’s unease.

Emma’s hand gripped Regina’s tightly. Regina could tell how nervous the blonde was, given the chokehold that she had her fingers in, even though she was not forthright in telling Regina how she felt.

As Robin lifted his head with a beaming smile and began to approach Marian to stand beside her, Regina made a mental note to mention to Emma that the other couple’s dynamic was different from theirs and that neither she nor Marian expected her to act as Robin was.

“Hi Mistress Regina. Nice to meet you, Emma.”

Though Emma knew it was a term of respect, it felt odd that someone, specifically a man, would call her Mommy that. She didn’t even call her Mommy that title, not really. For a moment she considered calling ‘yellow’ very quietly, it all felt like it was becoming too weird - but with Robin leaving in a moment, she knew it wouldn’t last.

“Hi, Robbie. Where are you going, tonight?”

Robin proceeded to excitedly tell them about the play party he was attending, which put Emma at ease slightly. As she listened to him, she could feel Marian’s eyes on her, closely examining Regina’s choice of outfit for her. Given the devilish smile she noticed from her periphery, Mistress Marian certainly approved.

I'm Zelena.

No jk, I don't identify with one character alone but I think all characters are a combination of me and others that are and have previously been in my life at some point! It's difficult to say.

Hey,

I really want to come back soon!!! I'm suffering from mad writer's block right now!! I'm also going through some exciting life changes and everything, but I'm going to try my best to find time to really focus on writing!

You mentioned that Emma loves Regina's tummy because it's so soft. I was wondering if Regina ever gets self-conscious about her body, and how Emma would respond to her if she did.

Thanks!

Emma could always tell when Regina’s period was approaching. 

It would always begin on a Sunday evening when lazy kissing would inevitably turn into something a little more intimate. Emma would quickly strip whatever light clothing she had on, and where Regina would normally do the same, on these occasions there’d be a pause. 

A hesitation. 

Before she’d lean over to her bedside table and click off her lamp, and ask Emma to do the same. 

The first few times Regina did this, Emma was confused. They were a firmly ‘sex with the lights on’ kind of couple, Emma loved seeing her Mommy in all her glory. From the way Regina’s breasts bounced when she was plowing into her to the faces she’d make when she climaxed, the blonde was obsessed. 

So, of course, it was disconcerting to have sex in total darkness where she could only feel her way around for her Mama. Emma didn’t question it at first, but would come to recognise it as the first sign of a pattern of behaviour that would follow for the rest of the week. 

Regina’s PMS symptoms verged on PMDD, and the focal point of her anxiety was always her body. Growing up in the early 2000s harmed Regina’s sense of her own body image for years. Whilst she had never been overweight and had come to mostly accept and love her body over the years, her premenstrual hormones would reignite her teenage body dysmorphia. 

It didn’t help that Emma was naturally slim. Destined to be skeletal without a carefully curated diet, her body not yet showing the signs of age and maturity that Regina’s was. Of course, Regina logically knew she shouldn’t be comparing herself to her baby girl, who was twelve years her junior. It was easier said than done, though, when Regina saw her girlfriend prance around the bedroom with her perky tits and tight little abdominals whilst she felt heavy and bovine. 

Sex with the lights off would be the start. It would be soon followed by extra early morning cardio sessions, which would steal Emma’s Mommy away from her in the mornings. Then came the tiny dinners, which would consist of salad and some chicken, but not much else. Mommy seemed permanently clothed around Emma, the girl couldn’t even catch a glimpse of skin when Regina was on the way to the shower. 

Eventually, Emma would feel so bad that Regina was feeling uncomfortable in her body that she knew she needed to give her Mommy some kind words to bring her back to reality. 

One night, as they sat quietly watching Homeland, Emma turned to her Mommy - who was using her fork to silently destroy the slice of cheesecake they were ‘sharing’ as a dessert, instead of actually eating it.  

“Mommy?” 

Regina could sense big green eyes staring into the side of her face. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“You know I think you’re perfect, right?” 

Deflecting the comment immediately, Regina just smiled and pecked Emma’s cheek. 

“Not as perfect as you, my little munchkin.” 

The young blonde, who was a master at diverting conversations from serious topics, recognised her Mommy’s game. 

“No, Mommy. I’m serious,” Emma’s face hardened slightly. 

Regina’s smile dropped.

“You didn’t eat any pasta tonight, and your salad didn’t look filling at all,” the girl said plainly before looking down at the mess on the plate between them. “You’ve also mashed this cheesecake to a pulp instead of eating any of it.” 

Mommy sighed, her hand releasing the fork and self-consciously coming to rub her stomach. 

“I’ve put on weight…”

Emma shook her head. “You haven’t, Mommy. You just think that because your PMS makes you hate yourself.” 

The older woman’s bottom lip trembled slightly and she sniffled back her upset. Emma’s arms opened immediately for Mommy, and Regina dove straight in for a cuddle, tears welling in her eyes. Emma held her Mommy for a while, resting her chin atop her head as Regina snuggled into her chest. 

“This whole week my negative thoughts have just been on a constant loop, I just feel so gross,” Regina admitted, and then in a quieter voice, added. “Especially in comparison to you…” 

“In comparison to me?” the girl questioned, her head tilted in confusion. 

“I just look at you when you come out of the shower or when you’re getting changed. You look like a model and I just feel like some…flabby old woman that you’re settling with.” 

“Woah woah woah, chill out, Mommy. Don’t call yourself that,” Emma sounded insulted on Regina’s behalf. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.” 

A reassuring kiss found the crown of Regina’s head. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Emma whispered. “I daydream about you when we’re apart…”

“You do?” Regina sounded strangely surprised. 

“Of course I do,” Emma shook her head as if it was obvious. “I think about your neck a lot.” 

“My neck?” Regina laughed. 

Your neck. Specifically this…” Emma ran her fingers up the side of Mommy’s throat. “Vein right here that gets all juicy and engorged when you are fucking me.” 

“Really?” 

“I just want to sink my teeth into it but I don’t want to kill you,” the girl admitted with a chuckle. “But I don’t think about your neck as much as I think about these…” 

A hand came to gently cup around Mommy’s breast, heavy and sitting slightly lower due to her premenstrual hormones. Emma’s thumb grazed softly over the thick nipple that sat beneath the fabric of her top. Regina hissed quietly as it hardened under Emma’s caress before Emma’s hand moved further south. 

“And this…”

Regina felt a hand cradle her soft tummy, which felt bloated despite her small dinner. Nimble fingers kneaded the flesh softly, which made the older woman self-conscious momentarily until Emma continued her encouraging monologue. 

“This is my favourite part of you. Your arms and thighs are all muscle but this…is so fucking sexy and womanly.” 

The heavy breathing that tickled Regina’s ear informed her that her little one was getting aroused just touching her, and remembering what lay beneath her clothes. Despite her feelings of inadequacy, it was difficult not to feel absolutely desired as Emma touched and spoke to her. 

“You’re healthy, and your body is beautiful, Mommy,” Emma said, with an air of finality. “You don’t need to lose weight, and even if you put some on, you’ll still look like the hottest woman to ever have existed. Probably even hotter.” 

The older woman’s head tilted back so she could meet Emma’s eyes, and found that Emma was already looking down at her, assessing how she was reacting to the words she was spouting. 

“I guess I can’t argue with that, princess.”

“No, you can’t,” Emma replied, a small triumphant smile forming on her face. “Now, I’m gonna heat up the leftover pasta and you’re gonna eat it all. With extra foccacia.” 

With a relieved breath, Regina admitted. 

'it's so cute that you whimper while you kiss.'

And honestly, that was the most Fanfic sentence I'd ever heard out loud in my life. I didn't even realise people said 'whimper' out loud.

Hey! 

This is interesting! As you can imagine, even when Regina is sick, her first concern is always Emma. 

The first time Regina got really ill was when she got mastitis. One Saturday morning, she felt an incredible burning soreness in her left breast, with the skin immediately around her areola tinged a painful crimson colour. Logically, the woman knew that she had developed a clog in one of her milk ducts, given the hard lump that raised the skin in the hot, painful area, but she just knew she didn’t have time to be sick. 

She looked over at Emma, who was still asleep, snuggled on her side with her pacifier in her mouth. 

If Mommy was sick, who would take care of her baby girl? Who would make her food and make sure she was behaving herself? Keep her out of danger? 

“No, I’m fine,” Regina convinced herself silently, before attempting to get out of bed to go and make pancakes for their traditional Saturday morning breakfast. 

It felt like an utterly Herculean task just to stand up from their bed. Their home was always kept warm, so Regina could always comfortably walk around in thin silk pajamas shorts, and a vest without feeling too cold. 

That morning, she found herself violently shaking - freezing and shivering. Her body ached as she located and dressed herself in thick, warmer clothes before shuffling, slowly out of the bedroom. 

The next order of what was quickly becoming self-inflicted torture was beginning to prepare breakfast. Regina wanted to move as quickly as possible, as if she could feasibly deny to herself how awful she felt if she could do all of her normal daily tasks at a normal pace. 

The woman quickly exhausted herself attempting to race around the kitchen. Feeling even worse than previously, she leaned her hand against the counter to rest for a moment, her head drooping down in almost defeat. 

She didn’t know how long she was positioned like that, until a concerned little voice spoke from the entrance of the kitchen. 

“Mama?” 

Looking up from her position braced against the kitchen counter, Regina offered the bravest smile that she could muster. Unfortunately, the smile looked as weak as the woman felt and just caused the worried frown on Emma’s face to worsen. 

“Morning, baby girl,” Regina forced the cheeriest voice she could. “Pancakes will be done soon—” 

“Are you okay?” Emma interrupted as she approached her Mommy. 

Regina’s ability to deny how terrible she felt was slowly slipping from her, but still, she lied with that same forced smile. 

“I’m okay, angel. I just woke up feeling a little off.” 

Emma didn’t believe it for a moment. Once she reached Mommy’s side, she said simply. 

“You’re shivering.” 

Which Regina countered. 

“It’s a little chilly in here.” 

Emma’s head tilted to the side, and her eyes compared Regina’s clothing choice - a thick hoodie and joggers, with fluffy blue socks - to her own; a pair of plaid men’s boxers and a t-shirt. Given that Emma was certainly thinner than Regina, she was always the one out of the pair who would complain of feeling cold. 

“No, it’s not,” Emma responded, deadpan. 

When the girl reached up to press her wrist against her Mommy’s sweaty forehead and physically grimaced when she felt how warm it was, Regina knew she couldn’t deny it anymore. 

“I think I have mastitis…” she admitted quietly. 

With a shake of her head, Emma pressed a kiss on the same area of Mommy’s forehead that she felt her temperature. 

“Come on, let’s go back to bed, Mommy.” 

Allowing herself to be manoeuvred back to the bedroom and into bed, Regina found herself cuddled up in Emma’s arms - her head resting on her baby girl’s chest. Emma was so warm, and Regina allowed herself to be wrapped up in the protective embrace, the soft, slow thump of Emma’s heart singing her back to sleep. 

The young girl had researched the potential risks and complications of long-term breastfeeding to the point of almost obsession for the last two years. She always worried about her Mommy getting hurt from the intimate act they both loved so much. As a result, Emma knew exactly what to do and how to make everything better. 

“I’ll get you a piece of toast and some Advil in a second, and then you can go back to sleep. When you wake up the Advil will have kicked in, so we can use a warm compress and try and nurse to drain out the milk.” 

“What are you going to eat for breakfast?” Regina asked sleepily, nuzzling her cheek into the soft fabric of Emma’s pajama top. 

“That literally couldn’t matter less right now,” Emma chuckled. “You know I function at my best for hours with a coffee and a cigarette for breakfast.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” Mommy grumbled when Emma leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. “You’re my baby, not the other way around.” 

“I’m a good girl who stops her silly Mommy from driving herself into the ground when she’s unwell.” 

As much as Regina insisted on being the one protecting and catering to Emma, the woman knew that Emma would do literally anything to make sure her Mommy was healthy and happy.